The Argosy — page 390: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

308 Aunt Félicité Tum Ancosr. After a while, Mr. Seton seemed to find this out, for he left the posi tion he had kept so long near the fruit-stalls, and crossing to the Bourse side of the Place, leant down over the flowers, drawn up in serried rows on the pavement. “ Will monsieur buy a bouquet pour sa dame?” An old woman with a brown wrinkled face, which looked as if some one had given it a screw in the middle, held him out a _nosegay of cloves, jasmines, and mignonette. He could not help buying it. “ But it is for me,” he said, laughing. ‘I have no belle dame to buy bouquets for.” “ Ah ca,” she shrugged her shoulders—“ un beau monsieur like you can never be in want of some one to give flowers to.” She stopped, and crossed herself devoutly : then, with a half-doubting look, ‘ There is always the Holy Virgin. Are you heretic, eh?” she said, sharply. “It isa pity: you are too well-made to be prey for the devil.” Seton pulled out his whiskers, and laughed. He was very band- some, and possessed an air of quiet distinction. His very indolence of manner gave a repose to his movements. He never did anything hurned or awkward, but he gave a slight start now as a young girl came up (0 the flower-stalls. She started also; a file of women passing to their carts with baskets on their heads had kept these two from the sight of each other. Seton raised his hat, and then the girl bowed timidly. She was interesting-looking: a pale, transparent skin, with great dark eyes, full of expression; the blush that came as she recognized Arthur made her lovely. Her long dark lashes almost touched her glowing cheeks at the flower-woman’s next words, ‘‘Ah ca, mon beau monsiewr, do you know Mademoiselle Genevitve? Ah ciel! how men tell stories! you said a minute ago that you knew no belle dame to offer flowers to. Ma chérie, I began to think thou wert not coming to see the old bonne. Thou wouldst have come, my child; but how could | know that the aunt would allow it, as I had seen thee at home this morning P” Seton had drawn a little back as the old woman put her brown hands on the girl’s shoulders, and kissed her forehead. Genevitve seemed to recover when she found herself talking to her old servant. “ Bah !—and suppose I did not ask the aunt? It is only when she 1s away from home that I may not go out and market for her. I go on other days, and why not on this? Elodie, you grow silly.” “C'est bien, mon enfant.” Elodie gave her a look of intense ad- miration, and then she turned again to Seton. ‘* How long have you known Mademoiselle, mon beau monsieur? She belongs to me, you know. She is mon enfant de lait. Is she not a child to be proud of?” Genevitve blushed, but she looked angry. Seton thought she was turning away, and he spoke, raising his hat, almost with reverence : COMIC OOOKS. EO mn _